


(Not) Broken

by Vehuel



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Aftermath, Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Tragedy, Blood, Dissociation, Eddie Whump, Forced Separation, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Separation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vehuel/pseuds/Vehuel
Summary: They were falling.Correction.Eddie was falling.





	(Not) Broken

**Author's Note:**

> I got the feelings. AGAIN.
> 
> Don't even know what this is.

 

 

They were falling.

Eddie’s stomach lurched, nausea rising along his throat and making him gag as their grip on the building’s edge gave away, body succumbing to gravity’s lure.

Their ears were ringing, the horrible noise filling their minds, sending stabbing bolts of pain through his brain, so painful even their _eyes_ started to sting, the low evening light searing their nerves like staring straight at midday’s sun.

They were falling.

Correction.

_Eddie_ was falling.

Black started to seep from his body, separating, the sensation of _loss_ so startling and visceral that the pain in his ears seemed like child’s play in comparison. Strands of Venom slipped like liquid from his limbs, arching in the air, and suddenly he was alone, _alone, **alone**_.

**VENOM!** , Eddie screamed in his mind, physical voice not working in the shock of _agony_ , the lurch and the horrible weightless feeling in his stomach fading from his awareness, fall forgotten, his focus devoted to reaching out, calling out to _nothing_ , because _nothing answered I am alone **alone ALO-**_.

Eddie hit something and blacked out.

 

 

 

 

_If you want control_

_Without any pain_

_How long will you suffer?_

_How long will you wait?_

 

 

 

 

Eddie woke up in pain.

It felt strange, pain.

Since bonding with Venom the feeling had been fleeting, almost inexistent, the alien healing the damage so fast most of the time his nerves didn’t have the time to relay the pain to his brain.

Now his limbs felt on fire, a headache the size of the moon pounding in his temples and a hole in what felt like his very being.

He didn’t even have to think, to check, to make sure.

He was alone.

_Alone._

**_Alone._ **

His breathing picked up in his chest, wheezing sounds coming out of his open mouth as panic climbed up his back and shoulders and took residence in his chest and throat, smothering, suffocating, killing him.

His mind was empty, his body was empty, his _soul_ felt torn apart.

**_Alone_**.

He didn’t even check where he was. He curled in a ball on the freezing floor, barely noticing the ache in his joints and the flaring pain crisscrossing his body, eyes closed as he reached inside, again and again, as he tried to reconnect with something, some **one** , who wasn’t there anymore.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

His throat felt torn inside, the delicate membrane abraded by the force and frequency of his screaming.

Eddie coughed, a gelatinous clump getting stuck before being violently expelled, saliva and blood smearing across the dirty floor, joining the other days-old stains.

They had stopped asking questions, after days of him grinning back at every inquiry, every request of information. They just hit him now. Eddie knew they would start asking again very soon.

They wanted information on symbiotes, on bonding, on _Venom_.

**Never.**

Eddie coughed again and tasted blood on his tongue, on his teeth, but he still raised his head and grinned madly at his captors, eyes wild and desperate as his brain kept searching for a presence long gone.

_Venom Venom VenomVenomVe **nomVenomVeno-**_

He was empty.

 

 

 

 

_He cannot be found_

_Replaced by another_

_Wearing his crown_

 

 

 

 

Eddie dreams about nebulas twirling in emptiness, of cold so deep it seems to seep in his very atoms, in his _mind_. Of streaking comets that feel searing on his skin **surface** , of dripping through a tiny hole and slamming against a glass cage, of mocking laughter and pain and _keep your eyes down, runt_.

Eddie dreams about fractures and heat and _loss_ , so strong and painful that sometimes he wakes with dried eyes and gouges on his skin, on his chest, on his temples where his fingers had clawed as if he could reach inside his flesh and carve the pain out.

Eddie dreams of black coating his skin and molding to his body, of the gentle sting of teeth around his shoulders and wrists and a deep voice in his mind, keeping him company, keeping him _sane_.

Those are the worst.

Because as he basks in warmth and tenderness and love and companionship, as he relaxes, as he loses grip on reality and lets himself forget it is just a dream, right then, black slips from his fingertips like water from a cliff, and no matter how far he tries to reach, how hard he tries and prays and screams, the black is taken away from him.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

“I don’t get it.”

The fingers tearing at his hair stopped, the grip turning from painful to almost slack, to some kind of petting that was supposed to feel soothing. Eddie coughed, face down on the floor, the concrete burning like gasoline against the scraped-off skin of his cheek, blood still seeping from it.

“This stubbornness, this pig-headedness.”

Eddie could feel the heat of a fireplace against his legs, the hissing and popping of the fire making for a quite nice background noise. He was almost enjoying it when the shrill scrape of metal on stone seared his ears, making him wince.

“If all of this was for a human being, I would call it loyalty.”

The hand on his head patted his skull, the dark figure in front of his blurry eyes shaking their heads and chuckling a bit.

“Fact is, Mr. Brock, that we aren’t asking you to give us information about your girlfriend – pardon, _ex_ -girlfriend – or anyone else.”

Two distinct pair of boots settled on his body, holding him down, as another set of shoes clicked their way closer to where he was laying.

He was so tired…

“We are asking information about an alien _thing_. It shouldn’t be this hard.”

His tattered shirt was torn from his back, the sting of fabric cutting a bit on his skin getting lost in the ocean of agony he was currently feeling.

“Again, Mr. Brock: tell us everything you know about symbiotes.”

The voice stopped for a few seconds, giving him time to exhale shakily against the floor, before scorching white agony was pressed against his lower back.

Eddie screamed, pinned to the concrete, and his voice gave out with a wet gurgle.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

They broke his bones, tore his skin from his flesh, burned and seared his limbs to make him talk.

Eddie barely felt the rocks dig in his body as they threw him down a slope and left him there, dirt and detritus and dead leaves getting in his nostrils, in his mouth, prickling his eyes. He lied there, still and quiet, staring ahead.

The emptiness inside him felt more agonizing than anything coming from his body, and kept dragging him under.

It had been dark, night, when they had left him there, and in a blink of an eye it was dawn, the low golden light illuminating his surroundings.

He wasn’t able to focus on what was around him. He didn’t even try.

The emptiness gnawed on his mind, encompassing, numbing.

A blink, and the sun scorched his flesh, beating down on him from above.

A blink, and oranges and pinks and reds streaked dark blues.

Nothing seemed beautiful anymore.

 

 

 

 

_There’s a place where I go_

_Without any sound_

_Only you can reach me_

_Only you’re allowed_

 

 

 

 

Eddie dreams of darkness pressing on his limbs, of numbness settling deeper, reaching his bones. He almost feels cold.

_It’s heat you have to worry about_ , his own inner voice whispers, low and strained, _is fire that harms us._

Eddie dreams of dying, of the coldness of space, of rocks and the hiss of pressurized doors on a sterile background, of scrutiny and tests and _specimen 3 has been inside the subject for three days, and is now stable._

Distantly, something slithers over his arm, but Eddie keeps dreaming.

Eddie dreams of pressure over his body and water in his lungs and around him, and suddenly he’s drowning, fire and an exploded shuttle above him, pieces of debris and metal falling around him like confetti. He claws at the water and cannot see the sky, darkness closing around him and dragging him under.

Black surrounds him and Eddie surrenders.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Eddie dreams about moving, images flashing in his mind, disconnected and broken. A facility, doors, people, blood splattering on white walls.

Eddie dreams of weightlessness and warmth and wakes up to Annie’s face, blond hair tied up away from her face and green eyes shining with the sunlight coming from behind him. There are stress lines etched on her skin, and she’s speaking, he sees her lips moving and her forehead creased in worry but he can’t hear what she’s saying.

He’s laying down on something soft and pain doesn’t reach him and he’s empty, _empty_.

There’s something hammering against his mind but Eddie doesn’t care.

He slips under.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

**Eddie.**

Eddie blinks and slowly takes in the room he’s in, the drawn curtains keeping the sunlight from getting in, the tasteful décor, the photos on the vanity and the powder blue comforter drawn up to his chin. The pillow under his face is soft and smells like roses.

His bare shoulder is coated in black.

He can’t feel anything.

**Eddie, please.**

Eddie blinks again and feels cold, blinks and stares ahead. Emptiness tears open his heart and collapses his lungs.

**You’re not alone, Eddie.**

Eddie closes his eyes and slips under again.

**I’m here.**

 

 

 

 

_And you’re so far away_

_You’re so far from here_

_Do you remember_

_Our time without tears?_

 

 

 

 

Eddie wakes, and stares, and falls asleep.

Eddie dreams about undulating black and blobs of slime, of laughter and bickering and encompassing warmth.

Eddie dreams about pain and blood and his throat and tissues bursting apart, of skin tearing open and cold concrete.

Eddie wakes up and stares ahead, and doesn’t try to talk – to whom should he talk, he’s alone _alone **alone**_ – because his voice is gone and his throat must resemble minced beef.

**Eddie, I’m here. Please, talk to me.**

There’s a spider making his way along the wall, slowly crawling upwards, slow and relentless, a black shape on white.

Eddie stares at it and feels calm, feels numb.

**Please. Let me in.**

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Annie sits with him almost every day. She speaks and keeps him company but he can’t hear what she’s saying, can’t feel her. He can’t see a clock but she comes in when the light beyond the curtains begins to go up, bright and shiny, heading up towards the top of the sky and afterwards falling down, down, falling down a building and crashing and hitting the ground an-

Eddie breathes and chokes and there’s a steady force around his ribcage that breathes for him, keeps his lungs from collapsing, controls the convulsions of his throat and slows the beating of his heart until the adrenaline goes back to normal levels.

Something cool and smooth wipes his brow, resting a bit on the side of his face, petting, sliding along his skin and pressing against his cheek in a way so so _tender_ that Eddie feels like crying.

**Please, don’t** , something whispers inside his head, and Eddie distantly wonders if he’s gone mad, because he’s empty and alone and there’s only himself inside his head. **I’m so sorry.**

Eddie doesn’t answer. Doesn’t speak.

Won’t give them information.

Never.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

**We searched for you.**

Eddie notices the curtains are open and stares at the sky, open and unobstructed. Today the sunset looks redder than orange, more like fire and blood and pain.

**I woke up in the sewers and tried to find you, but couldn’t stay alone for long. Went in search of Anne.**

Eddie blinks and it’s night out, dark outside and inside and he’s scared, feels knives on his skin and something dripping and shakes and shakes and the comforter slips down his shoulder.

**They’re all dead** , the voice croons in his ear, and something warmer than the blanket, something _safer_ and _familiar_ slithers and covers his body, blacker than the dark in the room and more dangerous than the fingers tearing at his hair.

Eddie thinks about those fingers petting his head and grins madly in the shadows, blood in his teeth and nose broken.

_Won’t talk_ , he yells without his voice. _Won’t tell you what you want to know._

**So brave** , warmth blooms in his head and wraps his neck in silk. **Sleep. You’re safe.**

Eddie falls without fear and makes rorschach dreams.

 

 

 

 

_When you’re falling_

_I will catch you_

_You don’t have to fall that far_

_You can make it_

_I will be there_

_You were broken from the start_

 

 

 

 

Eddie wakes and there are tendrils in his hair, carding through the blond tufts and cradling his skull in undulating softness. There are silk-soft ropes all around his body, anchoring him, black on once-tanned skin, curling around him like a cocoon.

It feels like belonging, like ownership so deep it is branded in his soul.

Eddie smiles and curls a bit, pressing his lips against black and closing his eyes.

The bed is soft and he feels safe, not alone.

_Never leave_.

**Never.** **Never again.**

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Song not mine (Broken - Depeche Mode)


End file.
